


I will run, I will crawl

by Perching_Owl



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: A little comfort, Embedded Images, Fanart, Gen, Hurt, M/M, Not entirely sure if this is friendship or ship, OT4 vibes, Whumptober 2020, takes place after chapter 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:35:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26775232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perching_Owl/pseuds/Perching_Owl
Summary: Another explosion disturbs the night, lightening it up. Prompto presses his lips together. He needs to get them out of Gralea. He needs to get Gladio and Ignis to safety.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum & Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36
Collections: Perching_Owl's Whumptober 2020 Collection





	I will run, I will crawl

**Author's Note:**

> Fifth fill for the [whumptober 2020](https://whumptober2020.tumblr.com/)! 
> 
> Another amazing piece of [fanart](https://twitter.com/KocosCollection/status/1313155298425700352?s=09) done by [Koco](https://twitter.com/KocosCollection). If you don't want to spoil the fic, the art is embedded in this fic as well. 
> 
> No 5. WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING? : **On the Run** |Failed escape | Rescue
> 
> Here is the [ Link](https://whumptober2020.tumblr.com/post/628055505485561856/whumptober-2020-updated) for the upcoming prompts.
> 
> Title is taken from 'Going down fighting' by Phlotilla.

Prompto clutches the wheels of the car, his knuckles white as he steers it along the road through Gralea. It's chaos. Pure and utter chaos. Zegnatus Keep, which hovers over the city is falling apart, explosions rocking the ground. On occasion, the howling of daemons is heard in the distance, but there aren't any on the road yet. 

Tears well up in Prompto's eyes. He sniffs, brushing over them with a shaking hand. Out of the corner of his eyes, he glances in the askew back mirror, where Gladio and Ignis are situated, lying so low in the seats, they cannot be seen from the outside. Gladio has an arm around Ignis, who has his eyes closed behind his sunglasses. Not that he needs them, runs through Prompto's mind unbidden, and he shakes his head, a tear slipping free. 

He sniffs again. 

His knuckles tighten even further on the wheel. No, he doesn't want to be cynical, that's not him. But right now, he cannot be positive, how can he- when- 

Prompto cannot even think like this. His emotions are running high, all over the place, and he wants to scream, to rage, to- to just do something, to fight, but he cannot- no, they need to get out Gralea, out of Niflheim. As quick as they can before even more chaos breaks out. Whatever that looks like. Some think it's a war between nations, some others believe it's a never-ending night. In his opinion, it's your best friend sucked into a crystal, laughter ringing out, low and reverberating, a shot fired. Or maybe it's driving out of Gralea as fast as he can as night settles over them, dark and suffocating. 

Another explosion disturbs the night, lighten it up. Prompto presses his lips together. He needs to get them out. He needs to get Gladio and Ignis to safety. 

Now there are people out on the streets. Some of them are in their sleeping clothes, some others are dressed. Most are hurrying away, though a few remain frozen in shock. But all of them are frightened, scared - no, horrified. 

Prompto has seen that before, his heart aching at the thought. Because in the end, those people just look like the people from Insomnia. It doesn't matter, he realises then. It doesn't matter how the nations are divided by their leaders, the people are the same. They are afraid of losing their house, of losing their loved ones, of losing their lives. 

Like he is. Except he has lost his home, has lost his loved one, and is only just hanging onto his life. 

Again, Prompto glances into the back mirror. He cannot help but stare at Gladio, who is holding onto Ignis, a hand covering the back of Ignis' head, protecting him, even with eyes wide, tears in them, and tear tracks down his cheeks. He is staring ahead, utterly exhausted as if he doesn't know if he can continue like this. His thumb brushes over the shell of Ignis' ear. Nothing else of him is moving, even his hair is caked with blood, dust and the black remains of daemons. 

Ignis on the other hand appears like a puppet with its string cut, resting without even shedding a tear, simply lying on top of Gladio. He looks as exhausted as the shield if not even past it at this point in their journey. His hair is falling into his face, covering most of the scaring around his eyes. They look inflamed again, and they need to be taken care of it. 

At this moment, Prompto longs to be between them, to hold onto them, to assure himself that at least he has these two wonderful and amazing people in his life, and they won't be leaving any time soon. He hopes so. Even with the revelation of his past. He doesn't think they will leave him, but there is a whisper in his mind telling him they are going to. He tries to ignore it, tries to think about Gladio's warm arms, about Ignis' soft hands, sleeping between them, resting. 

He cannot allow himself to think of Noctis. Not if he wants to continue driving. 

And they need to move on, to keep moving. After all, there are still deep in enemy territory. He is driving through Nilfheim's capital, trying to head for Tenebrae or at least out of the city. Maybe even find somewhere where they can steal a transporter. They need to get back to - well, it's not home. They don't have a home anymore- and-

Prompto cannot hold onto the sob anymore. He presses a hand to his mouth, a whimper passing his lips. His breath is quickening, going too fast, too irregular. He inhales then, reminds himself to keep holding on. His hand is trembling. He needs to put his other hand back on the steering wheel. No, he cannot allow himself to come undone now. He needs to hold on just a little longer. Especially as there are Gladio and Ignis still depending on him. 

He glances in the mirror, feeling like a voyeur as he observes them on the backbench of the car, entangled with each other. Neither of them appears capable of moving, much less driving a car out of a city as chaotic as Gralea is. 

Just a little longer. They need him to be strong at this moment. He needs to get them to safety first. 

And at some point- they need to stop right? Even though it feels like he has been driving forever, cutting through streets, navigating out of Gralea, and he is so tired himself. He feels like he cannot go on anymore, but they need him to. They need to get away, they are in enemy territory, at least with Gladio and Ignis. He isn't- not technically, not really. But he doubts he could fake being from here. 

At some point, they need to switch drivers. At some point, he will need to sleep. For the moment he can still drive. 

Just a little while longer, he thinks as another explosion rocks the earth. 

Just a little while longer, he thinks as he passes another streetlight. 

Just a little while longer, he thinks as he sees a child crying in the street. 

Just a little while longer, he thinks as the speedometer moves up. 

Just a little while longer.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos and constructive criticism appreciated :) Otherwise, I hope you enjoyed this fanfic and wish you a lovely day!


End file.
